PS 3509 
.L42 115 
1889 
Copy 1 



THE MINOTAUR 



THE MINOTAUR 

" Sonie'ii'here I've read that tlie ancients sacrificed their 
daughters to a inouster called the Minotaur . Like them. father. 
\oji have sold me to this modern Minotaur.'' Act III. 



A COMEDY DRAMA 
In four acts./^ 

CHARLES S. ELGUTTER. 



CHARACTERS. 

John STirBBOHN.—Wlio lovi's only wlijit l)elon,iis to liim and is tlic man of 
I * his name. 

' CHAFtLES STITB1J()KN.--His son, a risinji,- yoiiiiu- man with ideas of his own as 

to filial love. 
( Makquis I)K Montmokencv.— a man of pleasiiie who consults his own peace 
; of mind, cost what it may. 

JuTiES C'HETiN.~The Steward of Maison Blanche, witli an eye to his sister's 

welfare. 
Maklin.— The parish priest witli a warm heart and a young head. 

l'\TOU I '''^^^ gamekeepers who come to grief. 

.7ac:ques.— Valet to Charles Stubborn. 

Claire ue Montmokencv.— Daughter of the INIarciuis. wlio has American 

ideas of marriage. 
Countess i>e Polignac— Sister of the Maniuis, totally opposed to the 

American ideas of her neice, yet capable of self-sacrifice in the cause 

of the family honor. 
CATHEiiiNE.— Sister of Cretin in search of a husband. 

Servants at Maison Blanche and at Montmorency. 

INC/DENTS. / 

CT I.— The Meeting. . - w ' 

Scene 1. Library in Maison Blanche o *^ •? O K / 

Scene 2. A disputed path. ** ^ -^ • f -'' 

Scene 3. Atthebi'ook. 
ACT II. -The Resolution. 2 ' 

Scene 1. Music room in the Ciiateau Montmoi'ency. 
ACT III.— The Refusal. 

Scene 1. A. salon at Chateau Montmoi'ency. 
ACT IV.— The Reconciliation. 

Four months ai'e supposed to have elapsed. 
Scene 1. A room in the Paris mansion of the Marquis 
de Montmorency. 

Time— the present. 

Place— Montmorency, and Paris. 



Entered according to the Act of Congress in the office of the Libi arian of Congress 
at Washington, in the year 1889, by Charles S. Elgnitcr. 

All rights reserved. 



Mckermann Bras. & Heintze ^Printers, Dmahi 



)$i'\ 



h 



The Minotaur 



ACT I. 



Scene 1. The liljrary of Maison Blanche. [Through window a 
view of the Chateau Montmorenc3\ The sound of carriage wheels 
is heard, and slaniniing of carriage door. Cretin speaking without.] 

Cretin — Here Paul, the bandboxes and the shawls. [Eiiter Cretin 
and Catherine. Servant with boxes and wraps passes into adjoining 
room.] Welcome to Maison Blanche, sister, all shall be yours. 

Catherine— [Looking around.] Delightful, Enchanting! Dear 
Jules, how much you have done for me! 

Cretin — I knew it would please you; a l)eautiful home isn't it? 

Catherine — It seems like a dream; your sudden appearance at Mar- 
seilles with the surprising message to come with you to this grand 
place has quite unnerved me. 

Cretin — As I told 3-ou, it was part of our agreement. "Get the 
mortgages and I will marry your sister," said he. It was a large 
price I asked for this service, but I have well earned ni}^ fee and shall 
be amply repaid in seeing you the wife of John Stubborn. 

Catherine — Dear Cretin, dear brother. But where is Mr. Stub- 
born? Of course you informed him of our coming? 

Cretin — Well — ah — that is, not definitely. When I secured the 
mortgages I telegraphed to vStubborn that Montmorency was his. 
Then I went post haste for you — but he understands. 

Catherine — [Petnlently.] He does not knew then, I am here? 

Cretin^My dear child do not fret on that account. Business men 
do not like lengthy explanations. Their word is as good as a bond. 
Besides the mortgages are now in his hands and nou are here. 

Catherine — Will I please him brother? 

Cretin — Tut, tut, of course you will. Vou see, he is under peculiar 
obligations to me for past services. And if I do say it myself you are 
decidedly attractive. Remember, the man you are to marry is well 
along in years. Why, he has a son who is twenty-four. 

Catherine — Your words are reassuring. You will pardon me how- 
ever if I confess that I can scarcely realize, at one stroke of fortune I 
am to be transformed into the mistress of Maison Blanche, [goes to 
window.] How beautful the park! 

Cretin — [Joins her.] All this was once the domain of the Montmor- 
encys. That stream yonder, how-ever, is now the dividing line. But 
the lands wnll soon be reunited for we hold the mortgages of the 
Chateau itself. 

Catherine — You were not a faithful servant of the Marquis' interests. 

Cretin — Oh, fie, sister, you know the Marquis was always a butter- 
flv of light w'ing, and everv beautiful actress was a candle which singed 
him. iFor years after the death of his wife he led a gay life in 
Paris reiving on me to pay tlie piper. 

Catherine — And it is quite evident you paid the fiddler as well. 

Cretin — I managed his estates prudently enough. But when a 
pretty face or a well-turned ankle kept plunging him deeper into 
debt, what was I to do? 



Catherine — So I suppose you sold and mortgaged ever3'thing. 
Cretin — The Marquis had his head completely turned b^'a famous 
danseuse — let me see, how long ago was that — I can't just recall it, 
but it was the winter when Paris went wild over the performances of 
Mile Sara of the Gymnase. She led him a pretty caper. I was in 
distraction to pay for this expensive flirtation when, good luck would 
have it, John Stubborn came back to his birthplace after forty years. 
Nobodv remembered him. But he came to me and wanted only a 
modest garden where he could end his days in peace — shrewd fellow 
— begged me to sell him a strip of sand off in one corner, just enough 
of a patch to raise a bed of turnips — sharp schemer — and offered me 
such a tempting sum that I closed the bargain. That was the enter- 
ing wedge. But one day after I had sold to him, Heaven knows, 
more than I should, tlie Marquis appeared with his daughter and 
sister at the Chateau and told me I had obeyed instructions too 
literally, and so I ( hanged mast eis. 
Catherine — And this remarkable man it is whom I am to marry. 

[Enter Jaques with hatbox, fishing rod etc., etc.] 
Jaques — Oh, pardon me, I did not know you had returned sir. 
Cretin — Surprised to see me back ,eh. Well Jaques where is ;:Mr. 
Stubborn? 

Jaques — In the garden sir with the Marquis. 
Cretin — The Marquis de Montmorency! 

Jaques — Excuse me sir, Mr. Charles has just come as well. [Exit ] 
Cretin — Charles! I don't understand this. 

Catherine — What has happened brother, bad news! vShall I not see 
Mr" Stubborn to-day? You seem quite excited. 

Cretin — Excited/oh not at all, you shall see him in good season. 
For the present allow me [escorts Catherine and bows her out.] 
The Marquis here! Charles here! What's in the wind? [Exit] 
[Enter John Stubborn and the Marquis.] 
Stubborn — [Bows with much ceremonv. makes a parade of offering 
the best chair, but the Marquis declines it and takes another] At 
3^our service Marquis. 

Marquis — Let us speak of the business in hand. I have come as 
you know to request you to renew my mortgages. Ask any interest 
you wish. 

Stubborn — For whom do you take me? For an usurer, I suppose. 
Heaven forbid. I made my money by working with these two hands. 
I never lent money at so much a year and I don't propose to begin 
that business to-day. 

Marquis — Well, take a mortgage on my personal propertv. 
Stubborn — As for mortgages of any kind, I hate the sight of them. 
Marquis — If you will insist on having vour pay you have the power 
to foreclose on Montmorenc^^ 

Stubborn — What, all Montmorency? 

Marquis — One moment. IVIontmorency, as you are aware, is worth 
more than five hundred thousand francs, the face of your mortgages. 
Several will share in the sale of the estate. 

Stubborn — Marquis, I am a blunt man and say what comes upper- 
most in my mind. I was a boy here, a gardener lad in the service of 
your father. He struck me to earth one day, the insult rankled in my 
breast. I made a vow that I would revenge myself for that blow. I 
went to Paris, I became rich, I determined to own Montmorency cost 
what it may. But I do not desire to take Montmorency from you. 
Surely I have no reasons to wish you well; you have made my life 



miserable; you have made me become old before m)- time; you have 
brought law-suits against me — 

Marquis — For love of Heaven, no more law-suits. 

Stubborn — As I was saying, I never had reason tcr spare you, and 
yet I feel reluctant to take Montmorency. Wh> ? Because you have 
a daughter. I saw Mademoiselle Claire de Montmorency only a 
moment yet she wholly captured my heart. My ol)ject is to serve 
her. 

Marquis — Your sentiments do you honor Mr. Stubborn. 

Stubborn — Some weeks ago I determined to close in upon you. I 
sent Cretin to Paris to bu}' all the mortgages on Montmorency and in 
order to encourage him to make *a clean sweep I promised him that 
were he successful I would marry his sister. A few days afterwards 
I spied Mile de Moutmorency on horse-back and I did not have the 
heart to injure her. Suppose Montmorency falls into my hands, 
what will happen? Paris has her pleasures and her women; it will 
not be your fault; if Montmorency is sold your daughter will lie on a 
bed of straw, and I don't wish her to come to that. 

Marquis — [With an effort] Thank you. 

Stubborn — You have a daughter and I have a son. I will not say 
that he is worthy of her, but he is truly a young fellow of the greatest 
promise. Let them marry. Put your prejudices aside. There is no 
longer any question of Marquises but of men, and the utmost you 
could do for your daughter if she had a dow^y of a million — which 
she hasn't — would be to get for her a fine, intellectual young man like 
my son. Now my boy doesn't ask for a dowry. On the contrary he 
will bring one. The day he marrys Claire de Montmorency I will 
give him a million — think of it, a cool million! 

Marquis — You are the soul of generosity, Stubborn. 

Stubborn — Don't say another word. These advantages you have not 
had time to consider. As for that little debt of yours we will sa}' 
nothing nioie about it. You will find me the most charming of 
fathers-in-law. Then, too, think of your daughter; neither dowry nor 
expectations. What can 3^ou do with the poor child? Suppose some 
Duke or Marquis consents to marry her. I'll bet ten to one he'll be 
a clown or a fellow living on his wits. You don't know what sacri- 
fices I'm going to make for my boy. He is the apple of ni}- eye, he's 
my idol. 

Marquis — Ah, truly. 

vStubborn — What an example we are going to set before our country; 
and one must do something for one's countr}^ You hear patriots 
proclaim, "equalit}- before the law." I tell you it is a sham. The 
world is full of good fellows like myself who hate aristocrats, and 
aristocrats say to us [kicks with his foot] "get out of our way." Yes, 
the struggle of the Stubborns and Montniorencys is at the bottom of 
the social and industrial crisis. One hears the world over the tramp 
of workmen's shoes going up the palace stairs and the patter of 
polished boots coming down. Marquis let us reconcile the two. 
Let us intermarry the old with the new regime and restore the equi- 
librium. 

Marquis — [With forced calmness.] I will be charmed to reconcile 
the old and new regime. But the fact is, you business men always 
want bargains. Now, when a man wants to buy Claire de Mont- 
morency and the Chateau as well, it is for the seller to make .some of 
the conditions. 

vStubborn — Oh, a question of money with you, eh. With me it is a 



question of my son's happiness. Agreed. Will yon anins^ yourself 
a moment while I scribble off a contract. 

Marquis — A contract! 

Stubborn— [Writing and speaking at Ihe table at which he has seated 
himself.] An agreement by which in case of your backing out of 
the proposed marriage, you surrender Montmorency at once. 

Marquis — Hold, add in consideration, of the mortgages and the 
the further sum of — sa}- two hundred thousand francs. 

vStubborn — [Aside.] Two hundred thousand francs, the avaricious 
rascal! [Aloud,] Well so be it. what matters a paltry few thousand 
more or less where one's happiness is at stake. Agreed. Affix 
your signature here. One moment, there must be witnesses to this 
transaction. 

[Enter Jaques.] 

Jaques — Mr. Charles is here. 

Stubborn— The very thing, ask him in. [Exit Jaques.] 

Stubborn — Now you will see my son, Marquis, and must acknow- 
ledge that I have not been misled by a father's partiality. 

Marquis — I am sure he is all that I could expect in the husband of 
my Claire. But Stubborn, are you sure the young people will do 
as we desire? 

vSiubborn — What's that? j\Iy son cross his father! My son knows 
no other will but mine [laughs boisterously.] Why Marquis, since 
the day of his birth I do the thinking and speak for him. I will 
that she shall please him and by Heaven she shall. 
[Enter Charles and Jaques.] 

Stubborn — [Running up to his son and embracing him.] My boy, 
my boy! What have have you been doing to yourself? Brown as a 
berry! Surely a trip to England could not have tanned 3^ou like a 
gypsy. 

Charles — The gentlemen to whom you gave nie letters had villas on 
the Thames and all of them invited me to their homes. Their sons 
insisted on my rowing and their daughters taught me tennis. So 
vou see father, you are the ultimate cause of action. 

Siubborn-— Oh hang your law jargon. By the 1)}% I want you and 
Jaques to witness the signing of an agreement Vjetween m^-self and 
the Marquis de Montmorency. ^Nlarquis, I have the honor to present 
to you my son Charles. 

]\Iarquis — Mr. Charles Stubborn, I have great pleasure in meeting 
you. You have not been here before, I believe. 

Charles — No sir, this is the first time that I was ever in my father's 
new house. 

^larquis — I take pleasure in welcoming you sir to this quiet country 
retreat and to your father's beautiful home. I hope that in a few 
days all obnoxious barriers between Maison Blanche and Montmor- 
ency will be removed and that we all will be on those friendly terms 
necessary for ones peace of mind. Let the past be forgotten by you 
as itwill be by myself. 

Charles — It will not be difficult for me to forget what I never knew. 
I must warn you however that I invariably think my father is in 
the right. 

Stul3born — [ Patting him on the back. ] Ah, he's got you there 
Marquis. 

Marquis — Yes, so I see. But are the papers ready? 

Stubborn-^Here they are. Jaques, you are to witness the sign- 
ng of an agreement between myself and the ^Marquis de Mont- 



morency here present. [Marquis signs llie two copies of the agree- 
ment. John vSuibborn signs. Then Charles signs as witness, while 
lie is signing John Stubborn nudges the Marquis.] 

Stubborn — A fine fellow eh, a gentleniau to the backbone, sharp 
as a razor too. Oh you'll be satisfied with him. 

Marquis — An amiable young man no doubt, if he is your son vStub- 
born. [Jaques signs and leaves the room. Charles signs last, drys the 
copies and hands one of them with a bow to the Marquis.] 

Charles — With your permission. 

^Marquis — Thank you. I hope I shall see you [to Charles.] 

Stubborn— [Interrupting.] Certainly :\Iarquis, to-morrow. We'll 
be at the Chateau on lime depend on it. 

^Marquis — [Aside.] Damn these impudent plebians. How he is 
pressing this matter; [aloud.] oh, yes certainly; — shall be charmed 
to meet vou. Sav at 

Stubborn— Eight. 

?*Iarquis— At eight, well so be it. [Consults his watch.] I've an 
important engagement. Will you excuse me gentlemen? [To Stub- 
born] I regret I cannot accept your hospitality. Good day. [Sal- 
utations are returned and father and son escort Marquis to the door 
bowing him out.] 

Stubborn — [Clapping his son heartih- on the back] Oh \'Ou lucky 
young dog! Such a beautiful girl — such e3'es — such hair — such 
a walk, and she rides like Dinna. If I were ten years younger 
I wotild have her myself. And then so sensible, so spirited, so fear- 
less and so charitable too. Charles, I have shown throughout your 
life that I loved you, but I never gave such a proof as when I selected 
Claire de Montmorency for your wife. 

Charles — [Absolutely bewildered.] For my wife! Father do you 
intend me to marry? 

StubI)orn — Of course I do. How am I to have a grandson if you 
don't marry? John Stubborn de INIontmorency! How well it sounds! 
— No it doesn't either. I don't like the de. It recalls those despotic 
nobles. Clu-.rles, we will suppress the de. Your son shall be called 
John Montmorency Stubborn. Yes, it shall be so. 

Charles — But father, I haven't seen- the lad\'. 

Stubborn — [Good humoredly.] What does that matter, I have 
seen her and I tell you she has ever\' grace and virtue. Why, my 
dear boy, do you think in choosing a wife for you I wouldn't get the 
best article i-i the market? 

Charles — The best article mi the market! She consents to accept a 
husband she has never seen! 

vStubborn — The Marquis has seen yoir. 

Charles — If he is satisfied with that, he is a very considerate man. 

Stubborn — Is he! A bigger rogue and rascal I never met in the 
whole course of my life. When you are married we will kick that 
spendthrift of a father out of doors. To get Claire de Montmorency 
for vou, I have made great sacrifices which as a business man I can- 
not quite reconcile myself to. 

Charles — Give me a little time for reflection. In trying to make 
me happv vou niav be making me miserable. 

Stubborn — [Angrily.] You are not in love with anybody! 

Charles — No, I'm not in love, but I do expect to be allowed to 
choose a wife myself. From ;-our tenderness as a parent, from your 
liberal opinion as a man, I 

Stubborn — Ta, ta, ta, ta. Don't talk to 3-our own father who has 



made a man of 3-011 as if he was a lawyer on the other side of some 
miserable case. I don't want any of your justice court pleadings, do 
you hear sir, do you mind that sir? Charles you make me very angry. 
Wh}^ don't you give me your hand as my son should and say, father 
I will mary Claire de Montmoren«y whenever you please. "Tender- 
ness as a parent and liberal opinion as a man" [with sarcasm ] 

Charles — You give me no time for reflection. 

Stubborn — I don't want 3'ou to reflect Obey! 

Charles — Obev'- You are more despotic than those nobles you des- 
pise. It is true I am 3'our son and owe 3'ou deference 

Stubborn — Oh, you admit that do you? 

Charles — But I am also a man, and will not be bullied into obedi- 
ence. I shall think this matter over. I know your powers of dis- 
crimination and the chances are that 3-ou have chosen wisely for me. 
I know your love for me and the chances are that 3'ou have chosen 
someone who will make me happy. I likewise know your disposi- 
tion and how fearfully 3'Ou punish disobedience. I know my father, 
let m3' father know iiis son. 

Stubborn — [With forced calmness.] Have you done sir? 

Charles — You makers of millions have great powers of combina- 
tion. You play at the game of life as 3'OU would at chess. Men and 
women are the pawns to be moved here and there as 3-ou will. Al- 
though I am your son, I am after all only a cherished toy in your 
hands, destined in 30ur plan to reach the last row. But I too ma3' be 
a chess pla3'er and have nw coni1)ination and m3^ plans. 

Stubborn — Phrases, phrases, a schoolboy's tattle. [With an ef- 
fort.] Mr. Charles Stubborn we dine at four. I will be highly hon- 
ored — I desire — I shall want — damn me, give me your answer before 
we break bread together. 

Charles — [With hand on door knob.] I understand sir, and 1 
would to heaven 3-ou would comprehend me. If 3-ou onl3^ knew your 
son to be a man and not a pawn. [Exit] 

Stubborn — Stuff and nonsense, a sentimental dreamer; bah. It 
fairly makes my blood boil. But I'll be calm. To oppose my wishes 
and have the insolence to stand up before n^- ver3- face! Oh, but I'll 
be calm. Why, I'm alwa3'S right. A doctor of laws, umph, and can- 
not see what are his best interests. He must marry her. It isn't a 
small advantage for an ambitious fellow- to have a Montmorency in 
his pocket. These noblemen make excellent alliances. They have 
royal blood in their veins. Everybod3'' honors them. The3- have the 
genius of intrigue. There, look at my lawsuits, the Marquis had 
only to whisper in the ear of the Judge and he decided instanter that 
the Marquis,' pig> did not eat my cabbages. The w jrld is corrupt and 
we must get on the winning side. Dares me to my face! But I'll be 
calm. With the easy victor3- I won over the Marquis. I'm in too 
good a humor to fly into a passion. Oh, he'll come 'round, he'll 
come 'round. If he should defy me I'll not think of that, it chokes 
me. He shall marry Claire de Montmorency. That is decreed by 
the stars, because it has been written in mv head. But I'll be calm, 
I'll be calm. [Exit.] 

SCENE II. 

Scene. — [A disputed path in the woods between the two estates. 
Pitou with fowling piece followed by Patou with cudgel.] 

Patou — Here's where you meet? 

Pitou— The wery spot brother. He stops when he seed me and I 
sa3-s to him, "Monsieur Jacjues, whose ground be this 3-ou walk 



9 

on?" Says he, "John Stubborn's, fool." Mark yon, he called uie 
fool. vSays I, "This be the Marquis' wood, poacher." Mark you, I 
called him poacher. Then he says tome, "You lie yon scurvy dog." 
Mark yon, he called me dog, a scurvy dog. 

Patou--Ha! [Swings his cudgel.]' 

Piton — Then we came to blows, and we fit and we fit, and we fit. 
His thumps have left a stouebrnise on m\- pate, brother. 

Patou — He called you dog and shaked his fists at you? This l)e 
damning evidence. 

Pitou — So it be Patou, for doesu't the constable say, trespass is an 
aggrewating offence, but 'sault and battery be a double wrong in the 
eye of the law? 

Patou — Aye.that't be. Therefore in the name of the law go you before 

Pitou — Must I Patou, is't so in law? 

Patou — [Nods vigorously.] I heered it so myself. 

Pitou — Good. Then, brother stand you by, I'll be rewenged on 
this strutting Jaques 

Patou — Hold, brother, it may be murder to use 3'ourgun. 

Pitou — Dolt! Be not afeerd. We'll keep within the law. Don't 
save your blows but cudgel him, cudgel him well. I'll hold him 
hard. [Presents his gun to his shoulder.] 

Patou — You have a wise head on your shoulders, brother. 

Pitou — So I have been told. Patou, you be learned in the law! 

Patou — [Scratching his head,] Umph. 

Pitou — Let me ask you then. This be the Marquis' land, eh? 

Patou — It be. 

Pitou — Good. Trespass is poachin' eh? 

Patou— It be. 

Pitou — Good. Then poachin' be stealin'? 

Patou — Then were we many times thieves, Pitou. 

Pitou — Go, hold your tongue. A thief can be belabored without 
fear of jail. 

Pitou — When the thief can be bagged. 

Pitou— That's the law. 

Patou — Aye, that be it. 

Pitou — Well said. Now conies the conclusion of the law. This 
Monsieur Jaques, this fine feathered gamecock comes upon the Mar- 
quis' land unbid. So be he trespasser. P'rom that he goes to poacher, 
and from poacher he goes to thief [Counts on his fingers. ] Therefore, 
Patou, dear Patou cudgel him well, crack his pate, as he did warm 
you poor brother's. [Tries to push Patou in the lead who resists,] 

Patou — Would you stand safe in the eye of the law? [Pitou nods.] 
Then go you before. Besides, you be my elder brother, the law agin 
puts vou before. My arm '11 grow strongish if you go before. Ha, 
[bares his arm] let me at him. There be old scores to pay. Here's 
for poisoning the Marquis' pi,s:s. [Cudgels the air.] 

Pitou — Well said, well done. He durst not 'scape our wengence. 
By yon brook, see, hard by the bridge we'll lay for him. 

Patou — I'll eat him raw, but go you before, brother, I'll stick to 
your heels. [Rxeunt mock heroic] 

SCENE HI. 

Scene. — [On the banks of a stream running between the two proper- 
ties. A stone bridge spans the brook, in the center of which is a large 
iron gate with a huge padlock. Pond lillies growing in the water 
in great profusion but entirely on the Stubborn side, grassy banks 
and trees and knolls in the back ground.] 



10 

Charles — [Enters in meditative mood.] What a mercenary crea- 
ture to sell herself. — It is a matter of bargain and sale#— A paragon 
of beauty — Umph! M3- father is so immeised in his schemes to con- 
nect the'Stubborns with this noble house that he thinks too much of 
Montmorenc}' and not enough of the wife. He is a prejudiced wit- 
ness. If I could see the lady first, in ten nnnutes I should be able to 
make up mv mind on the evidence. — INIy beautiful unknown of Nice, 
[sigfis] pshaw, that's only a dream. He must permit me to see her, 
if iie denies me that, I refuse absolutely to marry this Claire de 
Montmorency. [Claire is heard singing in the distance, it attracts 
Charles' attention. He listens for a moment.] Hum, the gardener's 
daughter; I suppose the belle of the village; a cultivated voice, sureh-. 
[Sighs ] But I am in no mood for a flirtation. Adieu pretty singer, 
lull me to sleep. [Throws himself behind a tree out of sight of 
Claire.] 

Claire — [Enters swinging a large garden hat by the strings. She is 
upon the farther bank and looks down upon the water lillies.] 
Always, always, you will love me. 
Tender, true and noble be, 
Though a moment I have known you, 
Now ni}- heart 's in ecstac}-. 
Oh, one, two, three of these buds have opened; what a delicious per- 
fume. Oh, oh, oh, how I would like some of them. Why not? The 
stream belongs to papa just as much as it does to that odious old 
Stubborn. 

Charles — [Aside.] What's that, old Stubborn; papa! Can this be 
the girl I'm to marry? What is she about to do, I wonder? 

Claire — [Seating herself on a stump and removes her shoes 
and stockings.] Now, Mr. John Stubborn and all your family, 
if 3-0U have any, I give you fair warning that one of your 
lillies is on the Montmorency side of this stream, not much, it is 
true, but a little and I intend to remove the intruder. You won't al- 
low anv trespassing and we won't allow any trespassivg. You shoot 
our rabbits when they stra}- among your cal)bage beds and I shall 
pluck all your water lillies that stray beyond the middle of the 
stream. It is not necessary ]Mr. John Stubborn to write threatening 
letters and to summon parish officeis. I shall remove the trespassing 
flower at once with my own hands. Now you have been fairh- 
warned and I shall proceed. [Steps daintiU' into the stream.] Oh, 
oh. how cold the water is; what was that I stepped on; there must be 
snakes in the stream; oh, it's deeper. There goes my hat floating 
down! What a reckless creature I am! But I must have that lily! 
[Tries to get one.] Dear me, I can't reach it. What shall I do! If 
I only had a pole; I'll get the gardener's rake! Hurrah, old Stub- 
born, I'll beat you yet! [Claire having emerged from the stream 
picks up her shoes and stockings and exits.] 

Charles — [Emerging to view.] A girl of spirit, upon my soul, and 
beautiful as an houri. What a pretty foot and delicate ankle! W^hat 
has become of her? There she goes, running like a deer at the top of 
her speed; why she is already at the turn of the road; at the garden- 
er's lodge; she's gone. Will she come back? Here she is again drag- 
iiig a monster rake. I'm watching you my water sprite, 1113- fair 
nymph ; pilferer of water lillies; she comes. [Retires behind the 
tree.] 

Claire — [Having donned her shoes she comes in with a long gar- 
dener's rake.] What a run, I'm almost («ut of breath! Now I shall 



11 

see Mr. John Stubborn, if this trespasser can't be removed. [Oper- 
ates with her rake.] How heavy this rake seems, how awkarcl I am. 
I must get hold of the long stock and pull hard. There now I've 
got him. He doesn't want to come, but come he shall! No resist- 
ance to the law. Triumph, he comes! Dear water lily you are 
mine. [Presses it to her lips.] How beautiful, but I nuist have 
another. The large ones all grow on the Stubborn side; everything 
seems to be going their way [sighs] and against poor papa. Once 
more I invoke theassistauf e of the law, dear me this rake is so heavy. 
[Operates with the rake and hums.] 

Charles — [Conies forward holding her hat behind his back.] 
Ahem, young lady. 

Claire — [Looks up. screams, drops her rake, turns to run away.] 
Oh, there goes my rake, 3^ou startled me. 

Charles — Pardon me if I did. I had no desire to frighten you, I 
ony wish to call your attention to the fact that the lily you were 
appropriating is altogether on the Stubborn side of the stream and 
cannot be said to have trespassed. 

Claire — I deny that. It is plainly on our side. 

Charles — On our side, then you are a Montmorenc}'? 

Claire — I am. 

Charles — And 3-ou claim as yours all things on 3'our side? 

Claire — Papa has told me that is the law. 

Charles — Then this sun bonnet [showing it] which in some mys- 
terious wa}' found itself on the Stubborn side must belong to the 
Stubborns? 

Claire — Oh, that's my hat .>-'ir, give it to me. 

Charles — Excuse me if I hesitate. Let me see, you have a water 
lily which, it seems to me, did not grow on your side. 

Claire— It was on your side originallv perhaps, but as its stock pro- 
longed itself it became possessed of a vagrant humor and wandered 
away from safety. It trespassed and I seized it. I am sure that is 
the law, papa has explained it to me time and -^gain. 

Charles — According to that logic this hat is forfeited to the Stub- 
borns. 

Claire — [Quickly.] By no means, that was an accident. My hat 

fell into the water when I was [stops confused, their eyes meet 

and both laugh.] 

Charles — Suppose we compromise. I will return the hat, if you 
will return the lily. 

Claire — Return what 3'ou have unconditionalh-. Wh}- do you 
want this sweet flower? 

Charles — I have a passion for water lillies. Besides it has gained 
a priceless value in my eyes since it has l)een plucked b}- you. 

Claire — A pretty compliment I niu.st confess. [Bows with mock 
politeness.] But, sir, suppose I feel inclined to make the exchange 
how do I know that you have a right to take it? 

Charles — Have no doubt on that point, I am Charles vStubborn. 

Claire — What, the son of old vStubborn? 

Charles — Yes, I am young Stubborn. 

Claire — Is it possible, the Stubborns pay compliments! I thought 
gallantry was a plant unknown on your grounds. 

Charles — It is yoUr benign influence, everything springs into flower 
where you come! 

Claire — [Curtesies.] After such a poetic burst of sentiment I shall 
have no hesitation in asking for my own. 



12 

Charles — [Swinging hat.] The bonnet is too light to throw across, 
it will fall into the water again. • 

Claire— And the gate is locked, how annoying. Perhaps you have 
the key. 

Charles — The key? 

Claire — I almost doubt that you can be Charles Stubborn. There 
is the gate on the bridge, doubly locked and padlocked, put there by 
your father. 

Charles — Where is the bridge? 

Claire — Have you no eyes? 

Charles— Only for the beautiful, Mile. In my eyes that is a very 
ugly looking gate and a still more ugly padlock. What a size! It looks 
as if it belonged to the Bastile. If I can influence my father it shall 
be removed. 

Claire — [Seriously.] My efforts shall not be wanting with mine. 
Ah, sir, cannot we do something to make two worthy old gentlemen 
on better terms with each other? Can't we put a stop to those 
wretched law suits which are as vexatious to the one who wins as to 
the one who loses? I am my father's confidante, and I can assure 
you, Mr. Stubborn we are really inclined to live on peaceful terms 
with your father whose eminence as a promoter of industrial enter- 
prise we fully recognize. 

Charles — Thank you in behalf of my father. I have permission 
have I not, to clear th's abominable gate? [Jumps over the gate.] 
Permit me to restore some of your property that became possessed 
of vagrant humor. [They laugh.] 

Claire — [Hangs her head in confusion.] The sun affects ni}' eyes. 

Charles — Now that I see you plainly, you remind me of a young 
lad}^ I once met at Nice, and who left an impression on ni)' mind 
wdiich haunts me like a dream; a dream more to me than the most 
dazzling reality. 

Claire — [Timidly.] I recognized you some moments ago. You 
are the gentleman who assisted me to remount when mv horse stum- 
bled. 

Charles — Can it be you indeed! How extraordinary, these meetings 
and partings which chance arranges! That was not the first time 
I saw you. One day I was walking in the woods and had reached a 
shaded avenue. I stopped to admire an old oak whose trunk and 
branches were matted with ivy, when I heard the beating of horses' 
hoofs. I turned to see a young lad}' in black riding habit. I stood 
rooted to the spot following her with my e3es. That was the first 
time I saw 3'ou. 

Claire — I remember to have remarked that tree. 

Charles — I came to that place at the same hour day after day in the 
hope of again seeing the fair unknown. At last that hope was real- 
ized. Like a meteor 3'cu flashed b}- in a mad gallop, 3'our eyes 
sparkling with pleasure, 3'our whole frame quivering with excitement. 
Just as you passed that tree your horse stumbled. 

Claire — And you kiudh- caught m3' Bess and helped me into the 
saddle. 

Charles — Then with a smile you were off and I saw 3'Ou no more 
until tc-da3'. But I kept a memento of the occasion for your Marabout 
feather dropped from your hat and I have preserved it among m3' 
dearest possessions. 

Claire — Dear me, I mUvSt contest your right to that for the law of 
trespass surel3- cannot apph- in this case. 



v\ 

Charles — No, but the law of treasiir- Itove ])ears direct!}- upon it. 
Have I your permission to bring it to iviontniorency? 
[Enter Servant.] 

Servant — [Interrupting, touches his hat to Claire.] Mademoiselle, 
INIadame de Polignac requests you to walk with her on the terrace. 

Claire — Tell her I will be there immediatel}^ [Exit .servant.] 

Charles — May I offer my arm? 

Claire — No, no, no, no, my aunt the Counteis would be dreadfully 
shocked. I do not know what she would say if she knew about this 
afternoon's proceedings. 

Charles — Do you mean about 

Claire — I do not know you well enough to discuss this subject, but 
I must tell you Mr. Stubborn for fear that you may conceive erron- 
eous impressions of me, that I believe it to be no wrong for a 3'oung 
girl to exchange a few words with a young man, even when her par- 
ents are not present and when no duenna is near by to play propriety. 
I understand that in America young women are benefitted by an ab- 
sence of the restraints which surround us in France — oh, here comes 
my Aunt! 

[Enter Polignac] 

Polignac — [Savereh-.] Claire, can I believe lU}- eyes? Are you ac- 
tualh' conversing with a young man? [Claire and Charles embar- 
rassed.] What is the meaning of this silence? I demand an answer. 
Who is this young man to whom you were talking so earnestly when 
I turned the corner? 

Claire — Really aunt, he is a perfect stranger. 

Poliguac — A perfect .stranger! France, P^rance, what are we com- 
ing to! I find my niece, a Montmorency, in conversation with a 
man and when I ask his name, she tells me he is a perfect stranger to 
her. Perhaps sir, you will be good enough to explain who 3'ou are. 
What is your name? 

Charles — My name is Charles [stops short as Claire makes 

signs of negation.] 

Polignac — Charles, Charles what? Claire. I am suffering from neu- 
ralgia and I do not hear distinctly. What did he sav his name was, 
Charles ? 

Claire — I didn't hear it distinctly myself, but it sounded English. 

Polignac— You are from England, young man? 

Charles — I landed in France only three days ago, Madame. 

Polignac — But you have Frencli connections, you came to visit 
some one? 

Charles — I am on a visit to Mr. Stubborn. 

Polignac — [Indignant.] vStubborn! [She quickly draws Claire 
aside and talks to her, then turns to Charles.] Mr. Englishman 
whose name I did not catch, I understand this matter tolerably well. 
You do not know the state of things here. We are at war with the 
proprietor of Maison Blanche, who is the most 

Charles — Stop Madame, do not I beg you speak ill of the gentle- 
man whose guest I have the honor to be. 

Claire — [Comes forward.] It is right of him aunt to defend Mr. 
Stubborn, and we must say nothing disrespectful in his presence. 

Polignac — Claire, it is hiiJ^bly improper for you to come forward 
when I requested you to step aside and not associate with this person. 

Claire — [Angrily.] I am not associated with this gentleman. Am 
I to be schooled and scolded simply because my hat blew off and fell 
into the water and was rescued? [Tc> Charles] I hope that I have 



14 

said nothing in your hearing [with enipha.sis] which could have of- 
fended you and if I have, accept — 

Charles — Not another word, Mile., on my honor I heard nothing 
you could wish I had not heard and [with emphasis] I saw nothing 
you could wish I had not seen. [Both Claire and Charles embarrased, 
Polignac looks suspicioush' from one to another.] 

Polignac — Claire, your conduct is simply barbarous. There is some- 
thing in all this I do not understaKd. However, Mr. Englishman, 
one thing is clear, you are an intruder upon these premises. Should 
you meet this young lady again do not speak to hsr under any cir- 
cumstance. 

Claire — Aunt, I will not suffer this insult. Sir, when 30U meet me 
again, you will undertand that I give you the right to speak to me if 
it be your pleasure. 

Polignac — Claire, this is too nuich. This is actually an invitation 
to develop a chance meeting into a positive accjuaintance. I forbid it, 
sir. Never speak to this lady whenever or wherever you meet her. 
You smile sir. I amuse you sir. But we shall see. I shall acquaint 
my brother, the Marquis of your extraordinary behavior and he will 
demand an explanation sir, of your conduct, sir. [Exit with Claire.] 

Charles— Adieu Mile, adieu ]Madame. 

Claire — [Turns in spite of her aunt.] An revoir, sir. [Exit.] 

Charles— Oh the darling girl^ as full of life as she is innocent, as 
innocent as she is charming. My father had his proverbial luck when 
he thought of her, and my dream of Nice becomes an actuality. 
Claire, it is a prett}' name, and like my own begins with C. I will 
cut a monogram of two interlaced C's on some tree. There is a birch 
that looks as if it wished to be the recipent of just such confidence. 
[Exit.] 

[Enter Cretin and Catherine.] 

Cretin — Think twice before 30U act. It is true I encouraged you. 

Catherine — You fetched me here to become the wife of John Stub- 
born and you shall not thwart me. 

Cretin — But mv dear Catherine, you do not know this Stubborn. 
When Lwent to him a half hour ago and reminded him of his pledge 
he flew into a passion and swore he would kick us both out of the 
the house. Thwart him? The height of rashness. We must humor 
him. That's the way I advanced as steward and confidential agent 
in his service. 

Catherine — I am sick at heart of your bungling. All along I half 
suspected you were building fond hopes out of nothing. I will not 
be jilted and be made a laughing stock by your stupidity. He 
shall tell me whether he will marr}- me. 

Cretin — Caution, my dear sister, 3-ou are so undul}- excited. 
Patience and caution, trust my old head. 

Catherine — Patience, patience, oh, to be treated in this shameful 
manner! [Exeunt Cretin and Catherine expostulating. Enter 
Charles and John Stubborn on opposite sides of the brook, Charles 
with his back to his father and face towards Montmorency.] 

Stubborn — [After watching him a moment.] What are you doing 
over there? Are v'ou so impatient to set foot on Montmorency that 
you cannot wait until the gate is down? 

Charles — W^hy, oh, I beg your pardon father, I fear I have laid my- 
self open to a charge of trespass;. 

[Enter Pitou and Patou.] 

Patou — Hello, what cock sparrow 's this? 

Pitou — You are not the chap we're huntin' for, but trespassin' is 



15 

just what you've done young man. Just come along with us. and 
give us no troul)le, w'e'll hand you over perlitely to the constable. 

Patou — We seed 3'ou a cuttin' the young trees, didn't we brother, 
ketched ri^ht in the act doin't. So come along young feller or else 
we may hurt you. [Twirls cudgel.] 

Stubborn — Hold on my men, there's some mistake. The gentle- 
man is my son. 

Pitou- — He is eh, well all the better, we'd like to get our hands on 
\()u too, old hedgehog. 

Charles — [Who has been quietly standing by, rushes at Pitou and 
knocks him down.] Rascal, you dare insult my father ! Take that, 
and that. As for you, 3'ou impudent vagabond [turns on Patou who 
comes to his brother's aid flourishing his cudgel. Charles catches 
one end of it. They wrestle up and dov\ n. Pinally Charles closes 
in upon him and pitches him into the brook.] 

Stubborn — [During the contest dances up and down excitedly.] 
Hold on there, it's my son. Let him go, let him go I say. Ass, 
brigand, let go. I'm coming to your help Charles! [Rushes on the 
bridge.] Where is the key to the gate? I can't find it anywhere! 
[Fumbles in his pockets.] Damn the key and the one who put the 
gate here. [Tries to climb over the gate.] Hold on Charles, oh, I 
can't ever get over. Bravo Charles, in he goes. The Stubborns al- 
ways come out on top. 

Charles — [To Pitou who holding his nose advances cautiously on 
Charles] CoK-ie on if 3'ou want any more. [Puts himself into scien- 
tific attitude.] 

Pitou — I don't want any more to do with you. You are a perfes- 
sional and I'll have the law agin' you ar.d the other one there. He 
was a aidin' and abettin' you, so he was. 

Stubborn — Hey, what, I'll have 'em both in jail before sundown. 

Charles — Pick your comrade out of the stream and be off. Here's 
salve for your damaged face. [Throws coins bn the grass, Pitou 
picks them up sullenly and helps Patou -who has been floundering 
about in the water. Charles vaults the gate and reappears on the 
vStubborn side.] 

Stubborn — [Phnbracing him.] My brave boy, my dear Charles you 
are a Hector, I'm proud of ye; but come, dinner is waiting. Never 
mind your decision Charles, let's have dinner first and you can have 
time Charles, more time if you wish, for you are a man antl not a 
pawn. 

Charles — But I don't want more time, I'll marry the young lady 
whenever you please. 

vStubborn — [Overjoyed.] No — what — Charles, do you mean it? 
Really? Why this is the happiest day of my life. 

[Curtain.] 



16 

ACT II. 

Scene — [Music room in Chateau de Montmorency.^ Time, after 
dinner of the same da}-, wax candles burning in the candelabras. A 
log is burning on the hearth.] 

Catherine — Madame will you prevent this marriage? 

Polignac — The news you bring quite overcomes me. The articles of 
marriage you say, have been drawn this very day? I see it all, the 
Knglishman I met was the son. 

Catherine — My brother concluded the arrangements with the Mar- 
quis, not an hour ago. 

Polignac — Oh, this is infamous? Where was your famih- pride, 
3^our honor, Henri, to sacrifice your daughter in this w^ay ? 

Catherine— He promised to marry me but now [Weeps.] 

Polignac — Who was to marr}- you, the son? 

Catherine — No, the father. 

Polignac — Then Stubborn has marriage on the brain! 

Catherine — I came especially to Maison Blanche to marry him. 
But this grand alliance with your niece has r-obbed me of him. 

Polignac — Oh, Henri, Henri, not a word of this to me! If I know 
my niece she will not stoop so low as to espouse this gardener's son, 
but the mortgages, we shall lose Montmorenc}-. 

Catherine — Alas alas, I fear he is lost to me. 

Polignac — [Aside.] A grand alliance. What difference to them 
whether the father or the son marries? Claire must not marr}' the 
son. I will offer myself as the sacrifice for Henri's sins, and preserve 
the name of Montmorency from the disgrace of a misalliance. [To 
Catherine.] You say that the Stubborns will be here to-morrow% 
believe me, they shall not have nu^ niece. 

Catherine — Heaven bless yon Madame. 

Polignac— I seethe Marquis coming. Await me in my apartments 
to-morrow. 

Catherine — Yon have made me so happ}'. [Presses the hand of the 
Countess to her lips, exit.] 

Polignac — You repose no confidence in your sister, Henri, she 
will show her devotion to your daughter nevertheless. 

[Enter Marquis, Marlin, Claire resting on her father's arm. All 
in good spirits and laughing.] 

Claire — A capital story, papa. [To Marlin.] Poor fellow, jilted 
when he thought he was most favored [they laugh.] 

Marlin — When I was a student at the university, as I remember it 
now, a bright young creature treated my chum almost as shockingly. 
[To Polignac] Madame, I am charmed to see you looking so well. 
I have with me F'riar Anglico's "Saints' Redemption," which you re- 
quested. 

Polignac — Thank you. Abbe, how thoughtful of you, there are pas- 
sages in the sainted work I would have you read to me, especially 
the exhortation to wayward sinners, [looks hard at the Marquis.] 
You know, Abbe, this is the evening set aside for discussing means 
of relieving the worthy poor of the parish. 

Marlin — True, true, it had almost slipped my memor}-. Yen are 
kind to remii.d me, [rapidly turns leaves of book] ah, here it is, 
chapter four — no, chapter five, [runs his finger down the pages] to 
which I wish to call your attention. Madame. 

Marquis — By the by, who was that charming creature I caught a 
glimpse of just now? 

Polignac — That. Henri, is a most estimable young woman of the 
neighborhood, does she please your fancy? 



17 

Marquis — I assure you I have no interest in her. [Sinks into aim 
chair beside the fire and smokes.] 

Marlin— Oh, here it is at last Madame, beginning with the fourth 
line from the top of page three hundred, [reads] "true repentance con- 
sists in aV)solving one's self" — 

Polignac — [Aside.] Impious man, he is not going to inform me 
of his dastardly crime. [Aloud.] Come, Abbe, you sliall sit heie 
where the light is stronger. [Polignac and Marlin seat themselves at 
table at one side.] It will soothe nn' nerves to hear the blesFcd 
words. 

Claire — [Who has seated herself at the piano hums and plays 
dreamily] 

Always, alwa} s, you will love me. 
Tender, true and noble be. 
Though a moment I have known you. 
Now my heart's in ecstacy. 

Marquis — Claire, my child, do not strum so. Come and join me. 
[Claire leaves piano and stands in front of the fireplace meditatively 
tapping her foot on the fender. Marquis rouses himself from his 
reverie tossing his cigarette into the fire.] Wh}^ Claire, what a co- 
quettish slipper, what a lovely silk, and what a pretty foot. 

Claire — [Dreamily.] Do you think so, papa? 

Marquis — M}^ dear, I never saw one so small nor one so perfect in 
form. 

Claire — [Rousing herself. ] And yet if all tales be true, rxy papa 
has great experience in such matters. 

Marquis — All tales are not true, and my experience has been much 
less than the kind world gives me credit for. 

Claire— Now, truthfully, will this foot compare with a ballet girl's, 
for instance? 

Marquis — Comparisons are proverbially odious. My child, your 
foot is perfection, 

Claire — [Playfull}-.] I know someone who could give an opin- 
ion on this important subject, someone who saw it very plainly 
indeed. 

Marquis — Happy man, who was he? 

Claire — Someone who saw it uncovered, and to-day, moreover. 

Marquis — Why who could have been the happy mortal? Un- 
covered you say? 

Claire — [Raising her voice perceptibly.] Bare, papa. 

Polignac — [Who has been dividing her attention between Marlin 
and Claire.] Claire did you actually say, bare? You must be more 
conventional in your language, you really must, or I don't know what 
people will think of you. [Aside.] What can he be saying to her? 

Marlin — It is indeed, a word not commonly used in polite society. 

Marqu's— She was asking me, Mathilde, if Spanish ladies rode 
bareback. 

Polignac — [Aside.] Is he speaking the truth? [Aloud.] Never 
use such an expression, Claire, it smells of circus equestrianism. Say 
unsaddled, or without siddle. These thint.s are more important than 
one can. realize. [Marlin nods assent.] 

Ma'-quis — You have not told me yet who it waa that saw my dar- 
ling's foot unsaddled. 

Claire — Guess. But you couldn't if I gave you a hundred chances. 
Just fancy, it was no less a person than the son of the ogre of Maison 
Blanche. I was appropriating water lillies — 

Marquis — [Rousing himself.] Ah, so, what did he say? 



18 

Claire-He came upon me while I was operating with a rake, hav- 
ing rescued my hat which fell into the water. 

Marquis — That was very gentlemanly. • 

Claire — Oh he behaved charmingly. No Marquis could have been 
more gallant. 

Marquis — [Aside.] Peste, things are looking favorable foi our 
little arrangement. [Aloud.] He was deferential, was he. 

Claire — Ver}-, and at the same time he talked nonsense charm- 

Marquis — And did my sensible American girl talk nonsense too? 

Claire — I believe I did. But I talked sense as well. I said I hoped 
that he would join me in endeavoring to make our respective parents 
on more friendly terms. 

Marquis — Did you say that ? Now, the fact is I made overtures 
this very day to Mr. Stubborn, and he met them in a most friendly 
spirit. I saw your Phoenix too, but only for a moment, and by the 
wa}^ they are coming here in a day or two. 

Claire — [Thoughtfully] Are they ? This is news indeed. ButNou 
mustn't call him my Phrenix, for you saw him apparently before I 
did. Pray, why do you call him my Phoenix ? 

Marquis — Well, I don't know really why I give him that title ; but 
the truth is, he is a ver}' remarkable young man. His father has 
given him great advantages and he has made the best of them. He 
was brought up in Iviglish schools and has since studied law with 
great success. I haven't the least doubt, a brilliant career is before 
him. The law, you know, is now the high road to fame. 

Claire — Dear me, papa, 3'ou talk as if you thought he would 
become chief justice or president of France some day. 

Marquis — I haven't the slightest doubt of that, my dear. All the 
special pleaders speak well of him because he is more than talented 
and eloquent. He is imbued with lofty thoughts and is influenced 
by high motives. He has a sense of justice which few great men 
possess nowadays. 

Claire — Wh}-, really, I saw nothing special about him, and what 
you say is quite surprising. 

Marquis — He struck me as a remarkable young man. The father 
with his millions has picked up a veneer of polish, but his native 
coarseness is eternally cropping out. But the son is trul}- a genlle- 
man. The fact is, that auburn-haired fellow with his little English 
ways has a heart of gold and a brilliant future. Perhaps if you con- 
versed seriously with young Charles Stubborn you will find him 
a marked ^Tfception to the young men of to-day. 

Claire — [Looking fixedh- at her father.] In walking in the path 
bordered with sweet briar I have stepped on nettles. 

Marquis — [Uneasily.] What are you murmuring, Claire? 

Claire — You praise this young man as if 3-ou proposed him for a 
suitor. 

Marquis — Why, that is an idea, to be sure; a little strange, isn't 
it, but take it for what it is worth. Have you any prejudices ? I 
haven't any. A great philosopher with whom I enjoy agreeable con- 
troversies told me the other day, "One hears the tramp of wooden 
shoes going up the palace stairs atul the patter of polished boots 
coming down." Nothing is truer. Those people are going up in the 
world and we are coming down. Oid France has not the vigor to 
survive ; her nobility must intermarr}- with the new France. If we 
are on our guard, my dear, we can ward off the disaster. 

Claire — Is it part of your scheme that I shall marry your Phoenix? 



19 

I insist, sir, upon being told the whole of this. What are youi" 
intentions? what do yoit propose to do with nie ? 

Marquis — My darling girl, do not grow so angry. Certainly a 
little offhand pleasantry should not be taken seriously. Now 

speaking of ihis Phoenix 

Polignac — What are you two people (luarreling about? I can see 
that Claire is talking nuich too loud for a well-bred gentlewoman. 
But how am I to have much effect upon you, Claire, if your father 
instead of assunnng the authorit\- of a parent takes the gentle 
coaxing vein of an elder brother. 

Marqui.s — There, theie, Mathilde, you are altogether too severe. 
Your interruptions I can see by the face of Abbe Marlin are not at 
all appreciated, for he is reading a very interesting sermon for your 
benefit. 

Marlin — Oh, Marquis, I could wish for no more attentive auditor 
than 3-our worthy sister. 

Polignac — Brother, your remark is wholly gratuitous and a reflec- 
tion upon me. 

Marlin — No, no, Madame, I assure you — only a bon mot of the 
Marquis, ha, ha. [Polignac resumes the reading and conversation 
in dumb show.] 

Claire — Once for all, are 30U serious, or are you jc>king? 
Marquis — F/n, certainly I'm joking. However, one ought to be 
brave enough to express his convictions. My honest opinion is that 
this fine fellow is an admirable catch for anv woman. 
Claire — For a Montmorency? 
Mnrquis — Assuredl3\ 

Claire — You don't say a word about misalliance. 
Marquis — There isn't any. The millions of old Stubborn bury 
that. I know^ he intends on the marriage of his son to give him 
several. 

Claire — I am sufficiently prejudiced to believe that the millions of 
John Stubborn are not necessary for my happiness. 

Marquis — Bah, that is good enough to say. The happiness of 
women is so complex and so expensive. Now, suppose, I were in 
earnest — just suppose, of course — and desired you to marry him; 
now what would be your answer? 

Claire — That a Montmorency was not born to marry a Stubborn. 
Polignac — [Comes forward with Marlin.] I am sure she men- 
tioned the name of Stubborn. Henri, you have forgotten to teach 
her that there are expressions one should not use under any circum- 
stance. 

Marlin — Stubborn, John Stubborn, a man who never appears at 
mass. A strange character, I don't know what to make of him, 
and yet charitable. Only yesteraay he sent me one hundred francs 
for the poor of the parish. For all that, he is not the man to mj- 
liking, boorish and egotistical. 

Claire — I told my father that John Stubborn is an abominable man 
and that his son is no better. 

Polignac — A son ; has he a son ? [To Marlin] If that man has a 
son, what are we coming to? To think that those wretches possess 
to-day the fields which belong to Montmorency. Where are they 
going to stop? They aspire, no doubt, to reside in the Chateau de 
Montmorency, to eat from the plate of the Montmorency. [Aside] 
Will he not yet confess to me? 

Marquis — [Aside.] Heaven be prai.sed, she is still in the dark. 
Marlin — Their ambition it would seem knows no bounds. But, 



Madame, you desired to consult the parish rci^ister, did you not? 
Some twenty deserving poor liave already applied. « 

Polignac — Oh, thank j^ou, Alibe. [They look over the parish 
register.] 

Claire — The Stubborns evidently have had the effronter}- to make 
this proposition to you ? Did you have the weakness to accept it ? 

Marquis — Yes, but conditionally. 

Claire — Infamous ! 

Marquis — It was all your fault. That rascal saw you one day and 
you made an indelible impression on him. He lost his head and 
dreamt about you and finished the business by confessing to me that 
he was dj-ing to marry you. I told him no — a very emphatic no. 
" Ah, well," said he, "if she will not be my wife she will at least be 
my daughter-in-law. ' ' [Chuckles. ] 

Claire — Don't laugh. I am not in a mood to appreciate 3-our 
peculiar vein of humor. I am sure this man has some claim on you. 

Marquis — Must I confess — the rights of a creditor over a debtor. 

Claire — Is there a law which gives a creditor the authority to la}- 
hands on the daughter of his debtor ? Is there another law which 
legalizes a debtor to deliver his daughter without her consent ? 
Somewhere I've read that the ancients sacrificed their daughters to a 
monster called the Minotaur. Like them, father, you have sold me 
to this modern Minotaur. [She dashes to pieces a vase which she 
holds in her hand.] 

Polignac — Mercy, what's the matter? [Polignac and Marlin come 
forward.] 

Marquis — Nothing at all. It's the weather ; she's nervous. 

Polignac — Nervous? wh}', she's not yet twenty. I feel somehow 
her action is connected with those odious Stubborns. If your father 
has in an}- way espoused the cause of these miscreanCs, you are 
right, my chikl, in resenting it. I understand something of this 
matter. 

Marquis — [Aside] Does she suspect ? [Aloud.] My dear rvlathilde, 
how can you say anything like that? 

Polignac — [Aside.] Oh, the weakness and cowardice of men. 
[Aloud.] Henri, you do not know what sacrifices I am about to make 
for your sake. Claire, my brave child [kisses her, which is silently 
returned], you are indeed a Montmorency. Come, Abbe, let us pay a 
visit to the old butler. 

]\Iarlin — Good night, daughter, you shall tell me all your troubles 
to-morrow. I fear she is not well [to Marquis]. You need the air 
of Nice, my child. Good night. [Marquis escorts Polignac and 
Marlin to the door. He then returns to Claire.] 

Marquis — Calm yourself, my own sweet Claire ; calm yourself 

Claire — [Recovering herseif, but with a sob in her voice.] I am 
calm now, papa, but tell me everything. I am sure that of yourself 
you would plot nothing against me. But do not assist others in their 
conspiracy. Tell me all. Do not be afraid. It was not the danger 
it was the surprise and the pain of finding you against me that un- 
nerved me. But, papa, are we ruined? [He ntjds assent.] Well, 
what do I care for that. Men are so afraid to tell women of their 
misfortunes. The world will blame you, papa, but your daughter 
will never. With all your faults, you have been a loving father to 
me and have made tne womanly. 

Marquis — The hope of settling you advantageously in life weighed 
more with me than you can believe. 

Claire — I am sure you were jilanning for my happiness. 



21 

]\Iarquis — Well, so I consented ; that is all. 

Claire— No, no, there is more to this or von wonld not be so agi- 
tated. ' "^ 

Marqnis — My consent was snbject to yonr approval ; oh, I made 
that a condition. 

Claire — Then tlie matter is only a proposal. There is no aj^ree- 
njent, is there ? 

Mar(|uis — Well, Stul)horn did scratcli off some sort of a contract, 
which 1 signed, bnt I cannot say that I read it, at least not carefnlly.' 
He had so badgered me that I was in a sort of a daze and would 
have done anything he told me provided I could have escaped with 
ni}' life. 

Claire— Poor papa, dear papa, let me see the agreement. 

Marquis— [Gasping.] Would, would that be right, Claire? 
wouldn't it be a breach of confidence? 

Claire — Not at all. And even if it were, who is the more entitled 
to your confidence, that old ogre of ]\Iaison Blanche or your own 
daughter who loves you [both arms around his neck]. I must see 
the agreement. Papa, dear, let me see the agreement. 

Marquis — There, there, you shall see it. [Takes out his pocket 
book, fumbles in the papers, adjusts his eye glass, examines one or 
two.] Look at that, my child. I believe that is the contract, isn't 
it? [She nods.] I feel fatigued. [He s ts down in his old seat b}^ 
the fireplace, [Claire reads the paper,] 

Claire — [With an exclamation of surprise and pain.] Why, it's 
signed by him ; it's signed by him ! [The paper falls from her 
fingers.] 

Marquis — Of course, my dear. Stubborn and I both signed it. 

Claire — I mean Charles Stubborn. 

Marquis — Only as a witness. 

Claire — But he knows all about this agreement ? 

Marquis — Who can tell ? He may be as deep in the scheme as his 
villainous father. 

Claire — [Hoarsely.] Do you think so? 

Marquis — The Stubborns do not appreciate 3^our delicate views, I 
assure you. Since you refuse this proposition I am resolved to be 
guided by you entirely. I have educated you to think for vourself, 
my American girl, and as your happiness is at stake — well, we must 
sell Montmorency. [Sighs.] 

Claire — Sell Montmorency, my dear Moutmorency; that will be 
our shame, that will be our disgrace. 

Marquis — Ah, my dear, we must choose. If these old walls are 
indispensible to your happiness, resign yourself to become the wdfe 
of this young man. 

Claire — Never. 

Marquis — I also say, never. We .shall sell Montmorency. I shall 
not have a care in the world. You will have a comfortable home 
with your uncle. As for me. I don't mind what becomes of me — don't 
be alarmed that I will ptit a bullet through ni\' heart — I am going to 
hire out to some American showman who will display to his coun- 
trymen the face, the back, and in profile, the last of the Montmo- 
rency. 

Claire — Stop, you pain me. [Goes to table and takes candle, pre- 
paratory to retiring.] 

Marqtiis — Claire, my darling, are yon despondent? Come, you 
have not kissed me good night. After all, it is my fault that we are 
beggars, but how can I regain your good will — how can we escape 



22 

from the clutches of these robbers? Ah, an inspiration-»it will give 
us a respite at least and may prove our deliverance. Listen, accord- 
ing to the terms of the agreement with John Stubborn, if the 
marriage is broken through some cause for which we are not 
responsible — as if, for instance, his son should reject you — I have 
four years in which to discharge my mortgage obligation. In four 
years I can lind means to pay it Not to marry that exceptionally 
fine young man — not to sell Montmorency will be happiness indeed ! 
If you can disgust this Nestor of a lawyer, this remarkable Phcenix. 
this mirror of chivalry — if you can bring it about that he shall 
refuse you — I know it is so hard, you are so pretty, but can't j-ou 
invent some way? You .re one of Eve's daughters ; if you are not 
artful, what's the use of being a woman ? [Claire sighs.] Cheer up, 
my darling. Light is breaking in on our misery. You can dispel 
the clouds entirely. Where are your resolutions to meet this situa- 
tion bravely ? I feel as if a great load has been lifted off my should- 
ers. Yes, you shall do it, you shall make him refuse you and break 
this odious bond. Capital idea. Here are two kisses for the inspira- 
tion. Good night, my darling, good night. Remember, it all rests 
with you to save our honor and our estates. [Exit.] 

Claire — [Who has sunk into an armchair, finally arouses herself 
from her stupor, her eyes wander slowly about the room until they 
fall upon the marriage contract on the floor. She picks it up, reads 
the document again, and then with an effort repeats the name of 
Charles Stubborn; she falls back sobbing into the chair.] Charles 
Stubborn ! 

[Curtain.] 



23 

ACT III. 

Scene — [Evening. A grand salon in Chatean de MonUnorency, 
brilliantly illuminated. Doors leading to conservatory, library and 
picture gallery. A window overlooks gardtn. Marquis is speaking 
to Charles in dumb show. John Stubborn eagerly looking out of 
window to garden. He interrupts them.] 

Stubborn — Once upon a time a pear tree grew in that garden. I 
can almost see it now and a fine tree it was too. I was then a strip- 
ling of sixteen. Very proud to be in the service of the Marquis de 
Montmorency. I do not wish to speak ill of 3'our father, but he had 
a hobby. He thought he understood horticulture, but he didn't 
know the first principles. He insisted Ihat the shears were better 
than the pruning knife. It is false, absolutely false. Any fool could 
have told him better. Well, I was bus}- one day trimming that pear 
tree. Your father came to where I was working and watched me for 
a moment. Then he called me an ass and swore that I was destroy- 
ing his pear tree. Now why f.hou.d I want to destroy it? I never 
had a spite against the tree. He became angry and then, and then — 
are you listening ? he was here, I was there — then raising his foot he 
sent me flying head first against that tree. [Laughs.] What would 
your father tliink when he administered his correction, that forty 
years afterwards my son would marry his granddaughter. 

Marquis — If he had foreseen that a kick would one day have such 
happy consec|uences for his family, I am sure he would have doubled 
the dose. — I have some business to transact with your. father who 
understands so thoroughly the'pruning of fruit trees. My daughter 
is somewhere in the conservatory; she will be charmed to meet 3'ou. 

Charles — An infinite pleasure, I assure you. [Exit.] 

Stubborn — Eh, aren't you going to introduce them? where is your 
daughter ? 

Marquis — It is unnecessary; yesterday the young people became 
acquainted without our aid. 

Stubborn — You don't say so — the sly dog — not a word to me — the 
young rascal. ' But, Marquis, that kick was the making of me. That 
very night I set out for Paris. I swore that some day Montmo- 
rency should be mine. [Laughs boisterously.] 

Marquis — [Taking his arm.] Come, what do you say to a peaceful 
cigar in the garden? 

Stubborn — The very thing. [About to go when Polignac meets 
them.] 

Polignac — Mr. John Stubborn, I presume. A man so eminently 
prominent for financial ability that I esteem it a pleasure to form 
your personal acquaintance, sir. 

Marquis — [Astonished.] Allow me to introduce you, Mr. Stub- 
born, Countess de Polignac. 

vStubborn — Madame, the pleasure of meeting you fully repays my 
visit to Montmorency. Your name is not altogether unfamiliar. 

Polignac — I looked forward to meet ng you, sir, with the greatest 
delight. There, I said to myself, our estimable neighbor will at last 
honor us with his presence. [Makes sign to Marquis to leave them.] 

Marquis— [Tugs at her dress.] For the life of me what are you up 
to? 

Stubborn — [Aside.] Charming woman; these people of rank are 
decidedly wellbred, and she 's a Countess. 

Polignac — I am sure the Marquis can spare you a half hour, can't 
you Henri? [Takes arm of vStubboni and goes out, laughing to 
Marquis.] 



24 

Marquis — [Amazed.] To think that of her, of all women under 
the sun, she who prides herself on family and deportments To enter- 
tain that dog, my enemy. [Moves after them as far as the door.] 
Can I believe my eyes, she hangs on his arm, she whispers in his ear 
— what damnable jugglery is this! [Turns around and sees Cather- 
ine who has just entered ] 

Catherine — Oh, sir, is he here? Bring me to him. Where can I 
find him. I must speak to him. 

Marquis — What you too; are these women mad! Come, I'll have 
this riddle solved. [Cirasps Catherine by the arm and rushes out 
after Stubborn and Polignac] 

[Knter Stubborn and Polignac from the gallery.] 

Polignac — Since you love flowers, let me place in your buttonhole 
one of these orchids. 

Stubborn — Thank you, Madame, I shall esteem this little blossom 
as a pledge of your approval of the match between my boy ami your 
niece. 

Polignac — [Coldly.] Claire is too young to entertain matrimony 
and your son does not appear nuich ohler. 

vStubborn — Why Madame, my son Chailes is twenty-four. 

Polignac — But you yourself are still in your prime and may marry 
again, I wonder you have not thought of that Mr. Stubborn. 

Stubborn — No Madame. Once is enough I assure you. 

Polignac — But in the evening of life when the faculties decay what 
can be more agreeable [looking at him with great tenderness] linn 
the assiduous attention, and fond attachment of an affectionate wife? 

Stubborn — It sounds well Madame, but you can get mere down- 
right attention from a nurse who knows her business than from the 
tenderest wife. I don't believe in love and tenderne.'^s, you see. 

Polignac — Is that the way the practical men of business weigh in 
the balance the most sacred bonds of the affection ? Mu.-,t they value 
ever3-thing in a commercial sense? Nevertheless there is something 
to admire in such rugged, manly characters as yours, that one cannot 
but respect the ring of the true metal. Do you know, sir, that I am 
surfeited with the empty honors of nobility. If I onlv had for a hus- 
band a man for instance, whose titles were won b}- his own evertion 
like yours. I should consider myself the happiest mortil in existence. 
[Sighs.] I hope I am conducting myself with propriety-. [Aside.] 

Stubborn — [Aside.] Well I'm blessed if she isn't making love and 
a Countess in the bargain. You do me too much honor Madame — 

Polignac — You hesitate sir? 

Stubborn — Madame, my ambition is to connect my name with your 
family and that hope is about to be realized by the mirriage of my 
son to your neice. 

Polignac— But if she should refuse. 

Stubborn— Refuse! 

Polignac— No, no, I don't mean that, still you know that voung 
girls are so headstrong. They do not often see what is to their best 
interests. Claiie is especially self-willed. Should she oppose this 
match, nothing can move her. If, however, an alliance with our house 
could be consummated through other channels, in a short time 
her objections to your son might be overcome. But at present I 
fear, Mr. Charles will receive scant encouragement. 

Stubborn— Don't say that. It can't be so. I have set my heart on 
this marriage and if I move Heaven and earth it shall take place. 

Polignac — Your vehemence frightens me. [Aside.] Should ni}' 
plan miscarry. [Rxeunt!] 



[Enter Marquis and Catherine.] 

Marquis --Hum, so he promised to marry you, the rascal, and de- 
ceives you, and Madame de Poli^nac is pleading vour cause, well 
she has taken a strange way of doing you that service. Poor child, 
I pity you from the bottom of my heart. But why must it be the old 
Stubborn. If 1 were a real pretty woman like yourself I would fancy 
the son. 

Catherine — Sir? 

Marquis — Oh, of course, of course, I merely suggest, you kuow, 
that if you have any claim on the son I would be of great assist- 
ance to you. 

Catherine — Why should I not marry John Stubl^orn ? 

Marquis — Vou may as well count on the stars falling to earth 
as becoming his wife in the event of a marriage into my family. 
Can't you see he has used Cretin for a tool and is plaving you 
false. Come now, aid me in preventing his designs on niy happi- 
ness. Denounce Charles vStubborn openly as your husband— as vour 
lover. 

Catherine — That would be madness. I never saw him before 
to-day. 

Marquis— What does that matter? vSince vStubborn has tricked 
you so shamefully, why not crush the dearest wish of his heart ? 
That would be sweet revenge. 

Catherine— Don't tempt me, I will not listen. I can prove nothing 
against Charles. Why should I ruin myself and my brother to 
gratify you ? 

Marquis — T will pay you handsomely. 

Catherine — No, no, I won't listen. 

Marquis — Ten thousand francs. 

Catherine — No, no, don't tempt me. 

Marquis — Twenty thousand. 

Catherine — No, I tell 3'ou no! 

Marquis — Fool, see, Polignac plays her cards much better ! 

[Enter Stubborn from garden. Polignac leans affectionately on 
his arm; they catch sight of Catherine and become excited] 

Stubborn — [Aside] Here's a pretty mess. 

Polignac — [Aside] That vixen must not cross mv path. [To 
Stubborn] John, shall we retire to the conservatory? 

Stubborn — By all means, it's too warm here. [Exeunt.] 

Catherine — [Enraged, tries to follow ther>i.] Mr, Stubborn, Mr. 
Stubborn, husband! Madame, where are you going wiih my 
husband ? 

Marquis — [Catches her by the arm.] Woman, will you believe me 
now? Listen to reason; revenge yourself by denouncing the son. 
Remember, twenty thousand francs, twenty thousand francs. 

Catherine — Unhand me, let me go, I must after them, help, let me 
go, let me go. 

[Enter Cretin and Marlin excited.] 

Cretin — W^hat's this? The Marquis de Montmorencv would pre- 
sume to trifle. I shall insist upon an explanation, sir." This shall 
go into the courts. A scandal, if you wish. My poor innocent dove. 
He shall answer for this insult. [Leads Catherine away in hysterics.] 

Marlin — Why, bless my soul, that was a most compromising affair, 
Marquis. I did not expect to see that of vou. It ca.sts reflection 
on your gray hairs, on your dignity as a father. [Leads him out.] 

Marquis — Balked, baffled, when she could have aided me so oppor- 
tunely. But one hope is left. 



26 

Marliii — By my soul, Marquis, you are stark mad. Tllis is serious, 
very serious. [Exeunt.] 

[Enter Charles and Claire.] 

Charles— Shall we sit, Mile? 

Claire — If you wish. [Seats herself aud picks a flower to pieces.] 

Charles — A beautiful rose. 

Claire — You think so. 

Charles — Claire, why do you hold me at so cruel a distance. When 
we met beside the brook you were friendly and you conversed freely. 
You jested, but to-day 

Claire— [Coldly.] To-day? 

Charles — To-day 3-ou either speak in monosyllables or you do not 
speak at all. Have I said anything to displease you? 

Claire — I have not accused you 

Charles — Not in so many words, but you have by cold looks and 
icy smiles. 

Claire— It has not been my wish to pain n-ou. 

Charles — How formally you say that, yet when we spoke together 
last you defended me against your aunt, and you gave me the right to 
address you wherever we met. Apparently you have changed your 
mind. Perhaps you now agree with your aunt. You despise the love 
of a man who is not of noble family. 

Claire — The love, do I understand you aright? 

Charles — I do love you. When I hinted it before you were not 
angry but now when I am permitted to say it openly, you freeze me 
with disdain. 

Claire — You permit yourself to say that you love me, pray who has 
given 3-ou that permission? 

Charles — Your father and my own. 

Claire — Do tell me all about it. you have at last found a subject 
which interests me. 

Charles — It is all told in these words, I love you. 

Claire— You love me. You went to }'our father and besought him. 
You vvon him over. Then he went to my father and pleaded with 
him and won him over, was that it? 

Charles — Why, I don't know what took place between them. 

Claire — [With scorn.] Then I can enlighten you, INIr. Stubborn. 
My father is more communicative with me than yours with you 
for he knows that it is not necessary; you are such a model son, so 
docile and so submissive. You are the clerk and cry amen to 
whatever your father says. Yes, Mr. Stubborn, I know all. 

Charles -I do not understand, 

Claire — Perhaps you will not, you affect ignorance. 

Charles — Would I be guiltv of Want of frankness to vou, the woman 
I love? 

Claire — You flatter me beyoud my deserts. I must thank 3-ou for 
the honor, though I am surprised you should think it necessary when 
we are in your power. 

Charles -You are absolutely mysterious. 

Claire — Am I, I understand you well enough, sir. Your father has 
taught 3'ou, being his apt pupil from infanc3-. to believe in mone3-, 
and to sacrifice such matters as honor and affection to worldly ad- 
vantages. He is ambitious for \ ou and tells you that it would be a 
good speculation to marry some girl with no fortune but an historic 
name, and Claire de Montmorency^ must serve your purpose. She 
thanks you [makes a sweeping curtesy] and in addition you cozen 



27 

her by a pretense of a romantic attachment. How you and your 
father would have laughed at each other if she had believed it. 

Charles — You are more than wronging me, you are wronging your- 
self. Any woman might be proud of the love I bear you. 

Claire — You pla}' your part well. 

Charles — [Firmly.] If I know my heart I have not deserved insult 
at your hands. [He bows and rises to leave.] 

Claire — [Barring his way.] Stay, sir, where are you going? 

Charles — The obedient and submissive son declines any longer to 
urge a suit which is received in so extraordinary a manner. 

Claire — [Stands between him and the door.] Are you an honest 
man? 

Charles — Before God, I am. 

Claire — Then I may believe that you have not considered the false 
position in which we stand. How can I trust you that you love me, 
when vou suffer me to be made the victim of « nefarious plot? 

Charles— Plot ! 

Claire — You signed the agreement. 

Charles — I signed no agreement. 

Claire — I saw your signature. 

Charles — Oh, I remember now. I signed my name as witness, and 
as witness simply after the signatures of our respective fathers. I 
know" no more than the dead w'hat the paper contained. 

Claire — Can I believe you ? 

Charles — You are torturing me, there is something serious in all 
this, tell me, for I love you. 

Claire — I cannot muster the courage, it is so revolting to my 
womanhood, to my sense of self respect, that I — I may weep, and I 
would not shed a tear before the man who has wronged me in his 
thoughts. 

Charles — You tears will be sacred, for I love you. Trample on m}- 
feelings, tear my heart to pieces, from this hour I consecrate myself 
to you, 

Claire — I nmst justify myself, John Stubborn holds the mort- 
gages on Montmorency, and like a highwayman compels my father 
to surrender his daughter. [Weeps.] 

Charles — My God. The scales have fallen from my eyes, 

Claire — [Recovering herself.] And that agreement which you 
witnessed bound us to forfeit Montmorency. On the other hand, if I 
married you, the mortgages were to be annulled. I am valued at 
five hundred thousand francs. Your father is a good accountant. 
So much for niv smiles, so nmch for my hair, so much for my eyes — 
the heart, that insignificant thing, was not mentioned. Presumably 
I was to throw it in as a makeweight. I am a Montmorency, night 
and morning my aunt repeats the glory of our race to me. But were 
I a ditcher's daughter, I would not consent to be sold as merchandise. 
That million which ^ our father throws at my head with such inso- 
lence of generosity makes me shudder. I am not onlv to be sold, but 
I am to take part in the transaction and cover myself with infamy. 

Charles — Oh spare my father! 

Claire — No one dare claim that it is a son's duty to take part in 
such a plot against an unoffending girl. 

Charles — On my soul I knew nothing of this. 

Claire — Montomrency is dear to me. The broken statues which 
you saw in the garden, have a priceless value to me. This has been 
my home. Here I have been happy. Everything around me is a 
link in a might}- chain of associations and every object recalls the 



28 

time wheu we were princes in the land. That day has g©ne by. Now 
is the sway of the niortgagenien and they are to sit in our ancient 
seats. Take Montmorency, "butClaire de Montmorency will neither 
sell herself nor permit others to sell her. 

Charles — My brain is turnir.<r, Claire forgive me, surely if I refuse 
to wed you there will be no forfeit. 

Claire' — You do this! 

Charles — I will bear the burden of the refusal; such an act will be a 
renunciation of my father's love. He will spurn me. It was a plot 
against an innocent girl; I will annul the agreement, will you believe 
me when I say that I do this Ijecause I love you? 

Claire — If you do this 

[Knter John Stubborn and the Marquis.] 

Stubborn — Well, Marquis, my son looks like a thriving lover. 

Marquis — They seem to be very well satisfied with each other, cer- 
tainly. [Aside.] Triumph, Claire has carried the day. 

vStubborn— Ah, Mile you are a pearl of beauty and I propose that 
the pearl shall have the most beautiful setting. I'll make Mont- 
morency worthy of you. 

Claire' — My constant prayer is that I may be worthy of Mont- 
morency. 

Marquis — That is a sentiment Claire which would please your aunt 
exceedingly. 

Claire — We each endeavor, papa, to be worthy of our name. 

Stubborn— She is a most charming lady, and don't you think Mar- 
quis, it would be proper to announce to her that the young people 
are agreed. Charles, you lucky dog, you're pale with happiness. 

Charles — I never knew happiness, sir, until this hour. 

Marquis — [Rings bell at side of the door, servant enters.] Give 
my compliments to Madame de Polignac and ask her to join us at 
once. [Exit servant.] 

Stubborn — Well, Charles, we'll make quite a place of Montmorency 
now that it is our own. [To Marquis] And to think I was a gar- 
dener boy here, and was kicked off the premises. 
[Enter Pulignac and Marlin.] 

Stubborn — Madame, we've been waiting to tell you the good news, 
the parties are agreed. 

Polignac — [Severelv.] I do not understand your allusion, sir. 

Stubborn — Why, your neice Claire, and my son Charles. 

Charles — [vSteps forward and looks his father in the eye, but 
speaks to Polignac] My father is somewhat precipitate, Madame, 
there is as yet no marriage agreement. 

Stubborn— [Mocks Inm.] My son is somewhat behindhand, 
Madame. Your brother and I concluded the marriage contract some 
time ago. There it is, Mr. Lawyer, all right and straight, isn't it? 

Charles — [Takes contract out of his fatlier's hand, puts it into his 
pocket and assumes an air of dignity.] Marquis de Montmorency, I 
at least will be no party to this plot against vour famih^ This settle- 
ment is waste paper, for I refuse to marry jMlle de Montmorency. 

Stubborn— Charles, I thought you a gentleman. This is not gen- 
tlemanly jesting. 

Charle« — You have heard me, I will not marry this lady. 

Stubborn — Am I in my senses? Do you play me false? 

Charles — I revoke all former promises, I will not marry Claire de 
ISIontmorency. 

Stubborn— .\re you mad ! What has changed you? 

Charles — The k'nowledge that you schemed to force this innocent 



29 

girl to an unwilling consent, by exercising over her father the power 
of a creditor over a debtor. I will not marry this lady, the refusal 
comes from me. 

Polignac — [In tears.] Noble young man. 

Marquis— [To his daughter.] Most cleverly done— when there is 
cunningness to be emplo3'ed, commend me to a woman. 

Stubborn— [Glares at his son and sinks into a chair.] Defeated! 
Humiliated by my own son ! [Tears at his cravat.] Air, I am stifling; 

air. [Marlin goes to his aid.] Charles, Charles come 

here [As Charles approaches he springs up and makes an effort 

to strike him but writhes and falls into a fit.] 
[Curtain falls.] 



30 

ACT IV. 

Scene — [Drawing room in the house of the Marquis d^ Montmo- 
rency at Paris. Time night. The Countess de Polignac and Claire 
in eager conversation.] 

Claire — When did it happen, Aunt ? 

Polignac — A few moments ago. Michael the porter became indis- 
posed and I saw m}^ opportunity. I put in his place faithful Ber- 
trand, and said to him, if Mr. Charles Stubborn presents himself 
admit him at once. So, my love prepare your heart, for great things 
may happen. 

Claire — Oh, thank you dearest aunty ; what I have suffered since 
we came to Paris! To know that Charles came here day after day 
and was repulsed by papa. 

[Pinter the Marquis.] 

Polignac — Hush, not a word. 

Marquis — Mathilde, have you heard the news ? 

Polignac — News, brother ? 

Marquis — That is strange, I should imagine ^-ou would be the first 
to learn of it, especially when it concerns you. 

Polignac — Concerns me, Henri. 

Marquis — I almost hear you give a sigh of relief, and it isn't every- 
body whose rival has the kindness to leave a clear field. 

Claire — You are forever talking in riddles, papa. 

Marquis — Not at all Claire. Your aunt will easily comprehend 
when I tell her that Catherine, that young woman of Maison Blanche, 
you know, who aspired to become its mistress, has disappeared — 
eloped, vanished. 

Polignac — Eloped, brother! Surely not with any of ouf friends. 

Marquis — I know what is on your lips, Mathilde, and I will relieve 
your anxiety. The young woman who caused you many a sleepless 
night, will bring you no further trouble. News comes from Mont- 
morency that she has become the wife of one of the village lawyers. 

Polignac — Ah. [She heaves a sigh.] 

Marquis — There, I told you the intelligence would relieve your 
mind. I presume it would be in order to extend congratulations. 

Polignac — [Confused.] Brother! 

Marquis — 1 have as good cause to be grateful as you, Mathilde. 
The virago came very near getting me into a mess of trouble when 
you were making a fool of yourself with old Stubborn. 

Polignac — Henri, such language is not at all in place. That event 
is painful to us all. 

Marquis — As you like, sister mine. At any rate we should be 
supremely satisfied to be out of the clutches of grasping mortgage 
men and once more can be independent. Claire, my dear, don't 
mope. It will ruin 3'our beauty. I have noticed of late a listless ex- 
pression to your face. 

Claire — You are very observant, papa. 

Polignac — Have no fear for Claire, you have taken care that your 
daughter's beauty shall not be dimmed. 

Marquis — \Vhat do you wish to insinuate? 

Polignac — My meaning is perfectly clear. 

Marquis — Because I jest with Claire about her ancient admirer, old 
Stubborn, who comes here every night to offer her a bouquet, and to 
kiss her haiid and to call her angel, am I to be reproached? 

Polignac — You know I do not refer to Mr. Stubborn, whose grati- 
tude to Claire for nursing him through his long illness shows a 
thoroughly good heart. 



'^1 

Marquis — 1 have always allowed nivself to be ruled by women. 

Poliguac — So the world believes. 

Marquis — But if I could have mustered up the courage, I would 
have prevented that absurd charity. Why, it gave the old fool 
almost a right to enter into our intimacy and become o friend of the 
family. 

Claire — [In a low voice.] It was not charity, papa, my act was 
caused from a sense of justice. 

Marquis— Then I suppose we are to go on to the end of the chapter, 
and my house is to be invaded daily by old Stubborn until he dies. 
Peste, Claire, you have a wonderful fascination over old men. Your 
Uncle Beauchamp adored you, but then I do not quarrel with him for 
he had the consideration to die early and leave you all his fortune. 

Claire — Oh, papa, how can you have the heart to speak flippantly 
of a man who was sincerely your friend. 

Marquis — These sincere friends claim the privilege of regarding 
one in the worst light, and of abusing one with the utmost frankness. 
Now acknowledge, Claire, didn't he tell you all my little faults with- 
out reservation ? 

Claire — He often told me that you were a wicked, wicked man and 
that you were a spendthrift and had every vice. 

Marquis — Charming old man, did he say all that? I suppose you 
believed ever}^ word he said. 

Polignac — [With energy.] He told Claire that you spent her 
dowry behind the scenes of the grand opera, and when by his will he 
made up for your crime, for crime it was, you ought to be the last 
one to sneer at him. 

Marquis — What savage energy! Do you know Mathilde you were 
more amusing when your ears were stuffed wilh cotton. I shall re- 
gret the -ood old times when you had neuralgia. vSince then you 
have regained your 3-outh in a wonderful degree. 

Polignac — I presume yoa were often witiy at my expense, especi- 
ally among the fairies of the opera. 

Murquis — Peste, there is more in this than I thought. Is it pos- 
sible you really like old Stubborn, and whilst I supposed he was 
coming here to play the moon calf before Claire, a little matrimonial 
episode has been going on quietly between you. I must ask 3'our 
pardon for having spoken slightingly of a gentleman upon whom you 
propose to confer your hand. Shall I offer my best wishes now? 
Pray w^hen will the event take place which will change the Countess 
de Polignac into plain Mrs. John vStubborn. 

Polignac — Brother ! 

[Enter servant announcing Mr. John Stubborn,] 

[John Stubborn enters, is very subdued in manner and shows 
traces of illness. He gives a quiet nod to Marquis, bows gravely 
to Polignac and presents a gorgeous bouquet to Claire whose hand he 
raises to his lips.] 

Marquis — [Aside] Talk of the devil and you see his horns. [To 
Polignac] My dear sister that fit was a fortunate thing if you intend 
to marry him, for it made him managable, whereas before, — whew — 

Polignac — You were better when you were struggling with pecun- 
iary embarrassment, but since your circumstances have improved you 
delight to show the worst part of your nature. [To Stubborn.] Mr. 
Stubborn the air of Paris is agreeing with you, you are growing 
stronger daily. 

Stubborn — I think I am mending, but somehow I do not accustom 
mvself to the new life which my health obliges me to lead. 



32 

Polignac — Von want an object on which to center your thoughts. 

Stubborn — That is it my dear Madame. I dare not return to busi- 
ness. The doctors say that pressure on the brain would bring on 
another shock which would prove fatal. I am like a tree uprooted 
and transplanted, and I must make new roots, but the trouble is I 
don't know how. [Looks at her with intentness.] 

Polignac. — [Tenderly.] lielieve me, ni}- dear Mr. Stubborn, such 
an opportunity is sure to present itself. Adversity has this charm, 
it not only brings people closer together, but it reveals them in their 
true light. None of us are what we seem, for the world makes us 
wear masks. 

Claire — We do know you Mr. Stubborn so much better than we 
did, and perhaps we know you better than you know yourself. 

Stubborn — What is that my dear young lady? 

Marquis — Don't puzzle your brains to comprehend. Women now- 
a-days have the fashion of talking epigram without meaning. 

Stubborn — [Looking feebl}- from one to the other.] I don't under- 
stand this at all. [To Polignac] I can at least rely on 3'ou. 

Polignac — Claire lacks the courage to explain, and my brother 
lacks the good will, so I will say what is in our hearts. 

Marquis — Sister, Mr. Stubborn will not thank j-ou for what I see 
you are determined to tell him. 

Polignac — I beg of you Henri, not to interfere. Mr. Stub1)orn will 
rebuke me himself, if from a most sincere desire I venture to recall 
to him things which he has freed from his mind. 

Marquis — As the head of the family I totally disapprove all this 

Polignac — You have been an exemplary head of the family indeed. 
The disapprobation of such a knight of the grand opera will weigh 
very heavih'. 

Marquis — [Sighs.] If heaven were just you would have your neu- 
ralgia again. 

Stubborn — Madame, it is not likely I shall rebuke you, for I feel in 
my own heart that you are interested in my own welfare. But do 
not keep me in suspense. Has anvthing happened to — to — anv- 
body? 

Polignac — We are most desirous that you should forgive your son. 

Stubborn — [Breathes hard, shakes his head and becomes rigid.] 
Do not ask that, not that. 

Marquis — [Appears angry, takes a cigarette, strikes a match and 
begins to smoke.] Another scene, damn me. [Aside.] 

Polignac — vSmoking in the drawing room, Henri ! 

Marquis — Really my nerves are unequal to the strain, if this is to 
be another tearful chapter. 

Polignac — What manners, what manners. Whither are we drifting? 

Marquis — You may well ask that question when you are deter- 
mined not only upon a misalliance for yourself but are eager to bring 
about a misalliance for ni}- daughter. 

Polignac — Misalliance, indeed ! I am opposed to a misalliance just 
as much as you. If my niece should marry a rich man's son whom 
she did not love because he was rich, and if he should seek to marry 
her because she was a Montmorency that would be a misalliance. 
When the matter was of that complexion T was opposed to it. But 
now I know better, we all know better. We know that Charles [all 
look at John Stubborn who shivers from head to foot and becomes 
rigid] is a most noble 3^oung man who loves Claire with an absorb- 
ing passion. Claire would not be a woman if she were not impressed 
with his devotion. We have hearts, we are not all of stone. 



33 

Marqnis — I have never fonjj^ht against a woman's will for that is 
useless, but I wish that all your match-making might be } o-tponed 
indefinitely. 

Polignac— Is it our fault that the grand opera is closed ? 

Marquis — Well ifthereareto be many more such tender scenes 
and thrilling emotional passages, I certainly nuist fly for refuge some- 
where. Stubborn come out of the laud of dreams anrl smoke a cigar- 
ette. The ladies will forgive you, for they are entirely with you and 
opposed to me. I believe, to retain my daughter's affection, I must 
have a stroke of paralysis. Claire, couldn't you love me as vou used 
to upon less terrible terms? 

Claire — Oh, papa, you do not know how you wound me by turning 
everything to jest. You know I love you, and in your heart of hearts 
you love me better than anything in the world." And secretlv you 
commend me for what I do, and yet you persist — 

Marquis — Pray continue dailing, I am all ears. 

Claire — Some day, papa, you know you must grow old. You may 
put it off as long as you can. but the dav must come when you will 
acknowledge that nothing remains m this world for you, save the 
sacred devotion of your daughter. 

Marquis — And then I suppose we must call in that stupid Abbe at 
whom you and I have laughed so much, and I must make the toilette 
of my soul for the great event. A little fragment of my youth is still 
unconsumed, let me devour that and then I will be completely at 
your disposition, daughter and priest. 

[Knter servant announcing Mr. Charles Stubborn.] 

Marquis — [Excitedly.] Not at home, not at home. Send Michael 
the porter to me inmiediately. 

Claire — Stay where you are. I have sent for him and I will go 
m3self and introduce him. 

Servant — I beg pardon sir, but Michael had a fever and was taken 
to the hospital. 

Marquis — Who took his place at the door? 

Servant — One of Madame's servants, sir. [Kxit.] 

Marquis— That was treachery, Mathilde ! 

Polignac — And were you not treacherous Henri, when you in- 
structed Michael to turn that poor young man from the door ? W^ere 
you the student you profess to be of a woman's heart, you should 
have known that 3'ou were taking the very worst way to change 
Claire's disposition toward him. You must make up your mind to 
accept the inevitable graciously. 

Marquis — Yes it must be so. My sister marries the gardener whom 
my father kicked into the gutter, and my daughter marries his son. 
How wise I've been to distribute my affection among the fairies of 
the opera. WHiat is there for an honest man to live for but pleasure 
in these degenerated days ! 

[Enter Claire and Charles, she leans upon his arm and he is flushed 
and triumphant. Stubborn turns his chair and is absorbed with 
newspaper.] 

Claire — I feared jour complicity in that infamous plot — but now — 

Charles — [Ardently.] Now 

L laire — I know you were no party to it. 

Charles — Had I not seen you and loved you 

Claire- [Turning her head away.] Am I to believe this ? 

Charles — You must trust me. My father and I were on the eve of 
separation, for the dream of Nice was graven in my heart. I asked 
for time and he gave me two hours. I spent them in your company. 



84 

Claire — With nie I • 

Charles— Can 3011 censure me when I found the unknown of Nice, 
the object of ni}- fondest hope to be yourself? 

Claire — I had not forgotten the stranger of Nice. 

Charles — Claire, I knew nothing of this terrible undercurrent of 
plotting, oniy that my father proposed a marriage of conyenience 
with a woman whom I worshiped. 

Claire— I will he frank and true aud womanly. You haye con- 
ducted yourself as I would haye the man who should 

Charles — Claire ! [vSeizes her hands, she turns away her head.] 

Claire — [Meeting his ardent gaze.] Who should hope to win me 
for his wife. 

Charles — Oh, happiness. 

Claire — Charles you haye impressed yourself upon my heart as 
manly and capable of self-sacrifice. 

Charles — But now I am a pauper, a struggling lawyer eking out a 
miserable subsistence. 

Claire — Come to my father's house. 

Charles — He has shut the door in my face. 

Claire— I haye opened it. 

Polignac — [Comes forward, offers her hand to Charles. Claire goes 
to her father to whom she talks in dumb show.] I am sincerely re- 
joiced to meet you again Mr. Stubborn. If you come to visit me the 
doors will always be open to you. 

Charles — I thank you Madame from the bottom of ni} heart. If 
you are friendly to me my da}^ of supreme happiness cannot long be 
deferred. Haye you heard any news of my father? [Polignac giyes 
an expressiye glance toward Stubborn w'ho remains obliyious to 
everything around him. Charles betrays emotion and moves a step 
towards him.] 

Polignac — Let me present you to my brother. [Charles advances 
and offers his hand which the Marquis disregards.] 

Marquis — [Lights a cigarette.] We may as well be plain with each 
other, young man, your visits to this house will only be tolerated if 
they are intended for Countess de Polignac. They are paid neither 
to me nor to my daughter. 

Charles — As you will Marquis. I am not a stickler for forms, the 
great essential is to be inside these walls. 

Marquis — You will understand sir, that your visits to my sister 
must not be made a cloak for carrying on au}^ love suit to my daugh- 
ter. Once for all, that is out of the question. 

Charles — At our last meeting I somehow received the impression 
that you were favorable to my pretensions. [Claire remonstrates with 
her father.] I believe I am not misled by any personal vanity in 
saying that Claire is not averse to my urging my suit. 

Marquis — But I am. You refused my daughter's hand in the most 
open fashion. That should have ended the whole affair. [Hums.] 
He who will not when he may, when he will shall then have na}-. 

Polignac — For shame, Henri. Tartuffe is a new role and suits you 
by no means a« well as Don Giovanni. 

Marquis — Sister, you abuse the influence you possess in this house 
when 3'ou address such language to me. 

Polignac — But brother why will j'ou not perceive that 3^our posi- 
tion is untenable. Do you mean to tell us that if the young people 
agree, you will refuse your paternal consent?. 

Marquis — Of what use would my consent be when his father will 
not give his ? 



35 

Poliguac — How do you know that ? Claire, be it your task to per- 
suade your ftither. And you, Charles, soften your father. Tell him 
I am not indifferent to him, and that I warmly favor this marriage. 

Charles — [Stands dejectedly in front of his father who apparently 
pays no attention to him.] Father, I have sinned against you, but it 
was not I, it was the unfortunate circumstance that compelled me to 
choose between obedience to the woman I love, and obedience to 
you. Will you forgive me. If you have been unhappy, have not I. 
And it was not the least of my misery that I was compelled to leave 
you sorely stricken and by my art. You were at death's door and I 
was not near you. But father, Claire was there, and she was a thou- 
sand times a better nurse than I could have been. For her sake, for- 
give me. Let the ties of love speak again in your heart. Do not 
steel yourself against me. Wh}' abstain from the realization of all 
that you desired, because I was the instrument of the rebuke that 
smote us both. Were we not wrong. Could such an angel as Claire 
be made an article of barter. Oh, father, you know that you love 
her as a daughter. She is dearer to you than I. She is more love- 
able, she is purer, better, nobler than I. Can you not forgive me for 
doing as she wished. Father, the world will remain out of joint un- 
til the higher nature of woman is conceded. In Claire there is some- 
thing of the divine. Could I ever be wrong in obeying her. Is it 
possible that loving Claire you can still cast me from you for having 
obeyed her. Can anything efface the memor}' of our misery as a re- 
conciliation. IvOve is like sunlight. Will you shut out the sunlight 
from the evening of your days. Father, [places his hand on the old 
man's shoulder] I have sinned against you, but not against heaven. 
F'orgive me, I pray for your forgivness. [Kneels.] Still obdurate 
[sighs] I can plead no more. [Stands in an attitude of deep dejection.] 

Marquis — You see Claire, my consent will be of no earthly service. 

Claire — Nevertheless give it, papa. Do you think that after this 
episode I will ever listen to the addresses of any other man ? Who 
could ever be to me what Charles Stubborn is? He has shown iiis 
devotion. He has proved his love, and I can reh' on both. The 
fixed nature of his father is elevated in him into a noble fidelity, the 
one thing constantly lacking in men. They are faithful to an idea, 
but they cannot be faithful to a woman. Charles has shown that he 
is faithful to both. Would you wish me to dismiss his image from 
my heart ? This is the reverse of all that you ever taught me, and 
how could I do this and retain the purity of my soul and the dignity 
of my womanhood. Can I forget Charles Stubborn ? We have en- 
dured too much together, and suffered too much. The threads of our 
lives have been woven too closely. If you refuse, I remain unmar- 
ried. That is my fixed determination. 

Marquis— [Reluctantly.] Well, Claire, if you put it in that light I 
must — consent. 

Claire— [Toyfully.]Charles,Charles,niy father receives yon as his son 

Charles — I owe this happiness to the angelic pleading of your 
daughter. There has not been any legal barrier to my union with 
Claire, for I have in my possession the original contract. 

Marquis — You don't tell me so. I wondered what had become of 
that document, and I hunted high and low to destroy it. If that's 
the situation you need not win your father. 

Charles — [Dejected.] Claire will tell you herself that she would 
not be satisfied with such a consent. It must be in spirit as well as 
in form. I no more propose to profit by that document in the case 
of mv father, than in your own. 



3() 

Claire — Let me try if I can move your father. [She goes to Stub- 
born seats herself at his feet, leans against his knee afid taking one 
of his hands presses it between her own, speaks in a low voice.] 
Father, father, it is I, your Claire, who pleads. [All gather around, 
but at some distance. vShe continues to plead in dumb show 
and suddenl}' taking her handkerchief begins to wipe the tears from 
the old man's eyes, and crys out.] Charles, come, your father weeps, 
kneel beside him, and implore his pardon. 

Stubborn— [Charles kneels, and the old man falls upon his neck 
and sobs out.] My son, my son. 

[Curtain drops.] 



,jrJ^f^fiRY OF 



S^^GREss 



.PL. 

015 905 «'« g 




